Alcohol and Bandages
by Best Mistake
Summary: She wonders if they’re both just headed on a self destructive path to hell. [MeredithMark].
1. falling

1. falling

_The house is still at midnight, by one we'll be a wreck  
Alcohol and bandages will soon follow this mess  
Sleeping's overrated, we lie awake and cry  
If this is love then kill me now and save me from my life_

- "Alcohol and Bandages," jamison parker.

The first time it happened, it was an accident.

She was doing what she always did on Friday nights (on almost every night, for that matter), stopping at Joe's after work. The bartender started pouring a shot of tequila without a word the moment she slid onto the barstool.

"Thanks, Joe," she said gratefully, downing the shot.

He nodded, shooting her a small look of understanding as he wiped down the bar.

"Hey there, lusty intern," a familiar voice breathed into her ear, and she whipped her head around to find herself facing none other than McSteamy himself, looking just as she remembered him with a light scruffy beard and piercing eyes.

"Mark!" She didn't even try to cover up her surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting a drink. I've just been on a plane for eight hours and I need a scotch," he said, directing the last part of the sentence to Joe.

"Are you – why?" She felt her heartbeat increase slightly and couldn't help praying that he was there again to take Addison back home with him and leave Derek here for her. God, she really _was_ a horrible person.

"Richard offered me a job. I'm replacing Rastogi as head of the plastic surgery department."

"Seriously?" she stared at him. She said the first thing that popped into her head. "Is the Chief giving a position to every person Derek knows from New York?"

He laughed. "Looks that way, doesn't it?"

"Why would you want to work here? Everybody hates you. And I thought Addison was finished with you."

He calmly sipped his scotch. "Seattle Grace is – thanks to my two former best friends – one of the top hospitals in the country. Webber wanted to improve the plastics department, and he knew he needed the best. When someone offers you an obscene amount of money, you don't say no." His voice softened slightly. "And when you have the chance to fix some things you screwed up, you don't turn that down either."

Meredith wondered if he was talking about Derek or Addison. She decided to just shrug. "It's your funeral."

He gave her a knowing grin. "Maybe. Can I buy you another drink?"

And even though she knew it was dumb, and ironic on so many levels, she found herself saying yes.

- - - -

"We shouldn't do this," Mark gasped as they stumbled, mouths devouring each other, into Meredith's bedroom.

"Who fucking cares?" she asked, pulling his shirt over his head hungrily. God, what WAS it with surgeons and their perfect bodies? In her inebriated state, she could almost pretend he was Derek.

Mark lifted her onto the bed, kissing her neck as he fumbled with the button on her jeans. "Are you – sure?" he asked, pulling back to look at her for a moment.

She looked into his eyes – so full of lust but also of loss. She wondered if she looked the same way. "I'm sure," she said, tugging him closer again.

He kissed her again, hard. She couldn't help thinking that he might be pretending she was Addison, the same way she was pretending he was Derek.

He read her thoughts once again. "We don't need them," he muttered harshly against her skin. "We don't need them."

Both of them knew that wasn't true.


	2. hiding

When Meredith woke up, she could immediately tell that something was wrong. The familiar dryness in her throat told her that she had been drunk and probably made some stupid mistake again. She glanced at the empty bed next to her, at the way the other pillow was still bent in from someone else's head being on it.

Great. She'd made another one-night mistake with someone.

Then she remembered that it hadn't been just someone.

It was Mark. Addison's Mark. Derek's Mark.

Shit.

She jumped out of bed and quickly wrapped her bathrobe around her, glancing around for some sign of him. The only clothes that littered the floor were her own.

"Izzie!" she yelled as she ran down the hallway in her bare feet. "IZZIE!"

"Jesus. What?" Her roommate, clad in a tee-shirt and boxers, opened her door and glared at Meredith from sleepy eyes.

"Did you hear someone leave?"

"No… it's four-thirty, Mer."

"Oh."

"We don't have to be in until seven." Izzie yawned.

"Oh."

"Did someone stay over?"

"Yes?" Meredith answered tentatively.

"Who?"

"Just a guy from the bar."

"No one I know?"

She shook her head empathetically.

Suddenly George brushed by them in the way down the hallway. "Whoever your friend was, tell him not to slam the door next time," George muttered under his breath as he passed.

Meredith winced. "Sorry," she called after him.

"You know, if you want him to stay here this time, you might wanna stop having one-night stands," Izzie said practically. "I'm going back to bed. Wake me up in two hours."

"Okay." Meredith turned and stumbled back to her own room.

She sank down onto her bed, her head pounding from more then the alcohol.

"What the hell did I do?" she muttered.

- - - -

She couldn't decide if being at the hospital that day was going to be worse than when she'd unexpectedly seen McDreamy for the first time, or worse even than seeing George the day after The Incident.

Thankfully, it went better than both the previous catastrophes.

She went through the first half of her shift without so much as a glimpse of him, but that didn't keep the news from spreading that he was at Seattle Grace.

"_Did you hear? Mark Sloan's back."_

"_Is it true the Chief hired him?"_

"_God, I wouldn't want to be working near either Dr. Shepherd today."_

The whispers, mostly from the nursing staff, continued to follow her around. Meredith almost laughed when Izzie came running up to her with the news.

"Did you hear?" Izzie asked breathlessly.

"Yeah," Meredith said calmly as she set up her patient's morphine drip.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Meredith countered.

"Well aren't you happy that he's probably going to break up… um, _you know who_?" she said, attempting unsuccessfully to be discreet.

Meredith tried to push down the rising hope in her chest when Izzie said aloud the one thing she was hoping for most. "It doesn't matter. Derek and I are just friends." The same words she'd been chanting to herself the past few months. Just Friends. Just Friends.

Izzie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it."

"Why am I not surprised that MY INTERNS are standing around gossiping?" Bailey demanded from behind them, causing both of them to jump. "Stevens, you're scrubbing in with Burke on the kidney transplant. Grey, you're with Montgomery-Shepherd."

Great. Meredith felt her stomach sink. This was just perfect. She really didn't want to be around Mrs. McDreamy right then.

With a sigh, she gave the patient a reassuring pat before going off in search of her attending. She saw the brilliant red hair from the back and said, "Dr. Shepherd, I'm your intern, where do you want me?"

Addison turned around slowly. Her eyes were bloodshot. Had she been crying? Yelling? Drinking? Meredith had no idea.

"Right, right. Um…" For once, the beautiful, competent woman looked a little lost. "You can start prepping Sandra Neill in room 114 for surgery. I just need to check on her labs before we start." She ran a hand through her hair and sighed.

"Okay." Meredith briefly considered asking Addison if there was anything she needed to talk about, but decided that it would be a bad idea, considering her position. Almost as bad as the Very Bad Idea of sleeping with Mark Sloan in the first place.

As she turned to find the patient, she saw Derek approach them and for some reason felt the guilt rising in her chest. Which was stupid, she knew, because after all, Derek was with his perfect wife. She was allowed to… to do what? Sleep around?

She pretended to study the board as she lingered to hear what McDreamy had to say.

"I need you for a consult," Derek said to Addison in a low, clipped tone.

"Derek, can't we just talk - " his wife's voice was quiet and pleading.

"No. I need you for a consult."

"I – please," Addison murmured. "Please don't take this out on me – "

"Not now, Addison," he snapped and continued walking.

Meredith winced as she snuck a glance at the redhead. Addison was standing still, taking in a deep breath and her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

Addison saw her looking. "I'm fine. It's fine." She spun on her high heels and walked away.

So there was trouble in paradise. Yet again.

Meredith forced herself not to think about Mr. or Mrs. McDreamy or about the Dirty Mistress or about the Very Bad Thing she had done.

She guessed that she had done a lot of Very Bad Things.

- - - - -

She didn't see him at all until the end of her shift, when they ran into each other at the nurse's station.

"Hi, intern," Mark said with a secret smile when he saw her.

"Hey," she said stiffly as she handed over her last chart to the nurses.

"You done for the day?"

She managed a nod, heart pounding. What was she so afraid of? She hoped neither Dr. Shepherd was looking.

"I'll walk you out then," he said, and before she could protest he was lightly steering her by the elbow towards the door.

"So how was your first day?" she asked as they walk out the doors of the hospital, slipping on her jacket.

He shrugged carelessly. "I kicked ass." He smiled at her to show he was kidding.

She couldn't help laughing at his arrogance. "Good." She paused. "And?"

He knew what she meant. "And he avoided me and looked like he wanted to run me over with his car. Several times." He pretended to look around the parking lot carefully. "Tell me if you see a Range Rover headed this way."

She laughed again – and god, it felt so good to laugh. She didn't ask about Addison.

"You're still waiting out on him, aren't you?"

She considered the question. "I don't even know anymore," she said honestly.

He stopped walking when they reached a shiny black Porsche. "Want to think about it over a drink?"

"Not Joe's," she said automatically.

She knew she shouldn't get in the car.

But what was the alternative, really?

She was SO SICK of knitting.


	3. burning

3. Toxic

She knew it shouldn't have happened a second time.

Or a third.

Or fourth.

Or… well…

But every time Mark's hands roamed over her, she couldn't think straight. Of course, it may have had something to do with the seemingly endless supply of scotch in his cabinet.

"You have quite an impressive amount of alcohol, Dr. Sloan," she teased later that week as she took out another bottle and poured herself some more.

He shrugged as he got up from the couch (they hadn't made it to the bed this time) and pulled on his boxers. "Pour me one, too, will you?"

She handed him a glass and he grimaced as he took a gulp. "Ah. Refreshing."

"Why do you think doctors drink so much?" she asked thoughtfully as she tied her hair back in a bun.

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure all doctors drink as much as ourselves."

"Probably not," she agreed.

She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was – they both drank for the same reason.

"So you're staying here for good?" she asked, walking back into the living room and scanning the floor for her sweater.

He nodded. "I like the hospital. I like the city. I even kind of like the interns." He gave her a reckless smirk.

She located her top and slipped it over her head. "This particular intern has to be in for pre-rounds in a few hours."

"You could stay here," he offered. "I'll give you a ride. I'll even drop you off a block away so no one sees us walk in together," he said with a smile. "Even though it kills me that you're so ashamed of me."

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up." She shoved her feet into her shoes and grabbed her bag. "I'll see you at the hospital."

"You're sexually harassing me, do you know that?" Mark called after her, and she couldn't help laughing as she opened the door and walked out.

But she couldn't help thinking that Mark's sense of humor was exactly like Derek's. He made her laugh the same way.

And then she wondered if that was really such a terrible thing.

- - - - -

It was a slow day at the hospital, and those were the days she found the hardest. When she wasn't busy she ended up paying a little too much attention to Derek's scruffy sneakers, or to Addison's perfect hair, or to the way Mark expertly avoided her eyes when they talked in front of others.

She was painfully aware of the position she'd managed to get herself into – this strange game between three powerful doctors that probably had an even more complicated history than she'd realized.

"Grey, I need those post-op notes by noon." Mark suddenly appeared in front of her, barking orders in his typical 'hotshot surgeon' voice.

She nodded, holding out her hand as he handed her the clipboard. "Sure."

"And Grey?"

"Yes, Dr. Sloan?" she asked.

"You better be on call tonight," he said in a low voice.

They both knew what he meant by 'on call.' She just nodded.

It wasn't McDreamy, that was for sure. But it was something. It was better than bottles of tequila alone in her room, pining over the married man she couldn't have.

She heard high heels approaching from behind them and groaned inwardly.

"Grey, have you checked on Brianna Kelly yet?" Addison asked, and then halted awkwardly when she saw who Meredith was talking to. "Good morning, Dr. Sloan," she said quickly.

"Morning, Addie," Mark answered lazily, looking right at her with a smirk.

Meredith could practically _feel_ Addison stiffening. "I have to go… check on some labs," Addison said hesitantly. "Grey, seriously, look in on Mrs. Kelly."

"Okay." Meredith watched as Addison walked away. How the hell did that woman wear such high heels all day?

"She wants me," Mark said in that infuriating, confident tone.

Meredith didn't care – she _didn't_ – because it wasn't like she _liked_ him, it wasn't like this _meant_ anything, but still.

She hit him in the arm with the clipboard.

"Shit! What was that for?" he demanded, rubbing his arm.

"For being a dickhead," she informed him.

After everything that had happened, he still hadn't given up on Addison.

Pathetic.

But, of course, she still hadn't given up on Derek. And it had been almost a year.

- - - - -

"So who are you screwing?" Cristina appeared in front of her as she stood by the nurses' station.

Meredith choked on her coffee. "What?"

"Who are you screwing?" Cristina repeated matter-of-factly. "It's totally obvious you're getting some. Just tell me."

"I – nobody."

Her friend gave her a skeptical look. "You're going to try and lie to me? Seriously?"

She sighed. "It's no one important."

"No one important. As in, not McDreamy?"

She shook her head fervently. "Definitely not McDreamy. I swear."

Cristina shrugged. "Well, I'm just glad you're finally getting laid." She patted Meredith on the shoulder and strode away.

She let out a sigh of relief.

She felt someone's eyes on her from down the hall and looked up, expecting to see Mark's familiar secretive smirk.

Instead, it was Derek. Giving her one of those Looks. _Their_ Looks. As if his deep, sorrowful blue eyes were going straight into her soul.

She quickly looked away.


	4. sinking

4. sinking

It was desperate, sometimes.

She knew she was being pathetic and needy and definitely unhealthy. Her hands shook slightly as she dialed the now familiar number.

"Hey, it's me. I – can I come over?"

A sigh. "Sure, Meredith."

And then, within fifteen minutes (sometimes it was ten, if Derek had given her a particularly meaningful look that day), she was in Mark's apartment, in Mark's arms, hearing Mark's whispers.

She was doing fine – she really was. It was just a bad habit.

She never had been good at breaking bad habits.

She arched her body into Mark's as his lips traced over her ear, her neck, her collarbone. She sighed softly as his perfect surgeon's hands touched her where she needed it.

His hands were like Derek's – smooth and effortlessly sure of where they were going. She couldn't help marveling once again how similar they were.

Of course, Mark wasn't _Derek_. He made her laugh and he made her forget about how broken she was. But what they had – what they _were_ – was something else entirely. They were dirty. They were wrong.

This she was sure of, even though technically neither of them were married, or involved with anyone else for that matter. But that didn't stop her from considering her Very Bad Habit a dirty thing. It left a bitter taste in her mouth and made her stomach feel tight when she thought about it for too long.

So she usually chose not to think about it.

There was so much more to focus on – like, for example, how fucking _hot_ he looked without a shirt on as he got out of bed to answer his pager.

"I have to go in," he said with a groan as he glanced at it. "Car accident. Emergency facial reconstruction." He cursed under his breath as he got dressed. "You can stay here for awhile if you want," he offered her. "It's only… two am. Jesus."

She slipped out of bed, wrapping a sheet around her as she headed over to his dresser. "Can I borrow a shirt?"

"Sure, why?"

She held up the black tank top she'd been wearing that night. One of the straps hung down, ripped. "Because somebody was a little impatient."

"Sorry." He smiled wickedly. "No, actually, I'm not."

She snorted. "Doesn't surprise me."

"So I'll see you later." Mark stood in front of her, and suddenly she felt awkward as she looked up at him. He obviously didn't know if he should kiss her goodbye. His dark eyes slid hesitantly from hers to the door.

Because what they had, she reminded herself, did not involved kissing goodbye. It was sex. Sex and alcohol and… yeah, sex.

"Yeah, okay," she said, ducking her head and fumbling with the sheet.

He nodded crisply and turned to leave the room.

Meredith sighed slightly as she turned back to the dresser, opening the top drawer. She found an old Harvard tee shirt and slipped it over her head. It smelled like Mark – leather and cologne and smoke.

Something else in the drawer caught her eye. She tugged on the corner of a piece of paper that was sticking out from between tee-shirts.

The frayed photograph felt like it was burning her hands, and she sucked in her breath quickly as she stared at it.

It was Addison. Addison in her wedding dress, bright auburn curls against the pearl-white silk. She was laughing and turning towards the camera, green eyes bright with hope and happiness. The background was some sort of country club or vineyard – vibrant flowered trees and white canopies. Brightly dressed guests were everywhere. And there, among the crowd, was Derek, twelve years younger and in a tuxedo. He was slightly to the side, smiling as he talked to an older couple. His parents? Addison's parents? She had no idea.

But this picture – this proof – that Derek had loved Addison so long ago… it felt like a stab to her gut. When it was taken, she had probably been in the beginning of college. She'd never known McDreamy existed. And McDreamy had a life. Had a wedding.

And Mark had been a part of it. She hadn't ever thought about Mark being at the wedding. Never thought that he had really known the two of them for _that_ long.

She dropped the photo and it fluttered to the ground.

Derek's wedding? Derek's WEDDING? How sick was Mark that he had a picture of his best friend's marriage that he himself had ruined?

"Meredith? What's wrong?"

She spun to face him, unable to speak.

"I forgot my cell phone so I came back to…" he trailed off as he spotted the photograph at her feet. "Oh."

"I _get_ that you have a picture of her," she finally spat out. "And it's a good one, I guess… but in her wedding dress? Seriously? Don't you think that's a little morbid… considering?"

Mark shrugged and looked away. "I took that picture. I was the best man."


	5. ripping

5. ripping

Meredith yawned as she finished up her rounds, assigning prescriptions and taking blood work. Bailey appeared by her side and shot her a look, no doubt wondering if she had been kept up by yet another one night stand.

She remembered the way Mark had pushed her against the wall the night before and just as quickly tried to erase it from her mind. She didn't think about her Very Bad Habit, not when she could help it. She'd rather just pretend it didn't exist.

"Sloan and Shepherd need two interns to scrub in," Bailey told her as she checked over the work Meredith had just done. "You and Yang can go."

Meredith willed herself not to wince or appear unsure in any way. "Okay," she mumbled, mentally steeling herself as she began walking towards the OR.

"And Meredith?" Bailey called after her. "Try and make sure those two morons don't kill each other."

She tried to give her resident a weak smile.

She could hear their voices echoing in the hallway before she saw them.

"That's ridiculous, Derek. You can't just ignore the family's wishes like that – "

"It's his _brain_. If the tumor's spread – " Derek interrupted, his voice scathing.

"If the tumor's spread, it's to the rest of his face, and when he wakes up he won't have a face left!" Mark shouted.

She stood at the edge of the hallway, watching the two men argue. They weren't doing anything to hide it – she could see half a dozen nurses watching with interest, and the rest of the OR floor could probably hear them.

"You honestly think it's a good idea to take care of his face before his brain?" Derek demanded.

"I think it's a good idea to save his life, yes." Mark glared.

Meredith cleared her throat awkwardly as she took a few steps towards them. "Dr – um, I'm here. I'm your intern." She tried to ignore the double entendre that term conjured up, considering past experiences with the two surgeons in front of her.

"Okay, Meredith," Mark said distractedly.

Derek turned to look at her. His eyes scared her – they were dark and furious. She hadn't realized the extent to which he hated his former best friend. "Hi," he said, obviously struggling to be civil.

"We'll be beginning the surgery with a cranionemy, Dr. Grey," Mark told her.

"No we won't!" Derek snapped at him. "Obviously we both need to work on the tumor from the inside – "

As they continued yelling, Meredith saw someone come out of one of the OR's and stand in the hallway. Addison. Of course.

Neither man seemed to notice them. They were still arguing about the case, their tones getting nastier.

Meredith glanced at Addison. The older woman lifted her hands helplessly and rolled her eyes, as if to say, _Welcome to my life_.

"Shut up!" Meredith shouted finally.

Both men turned to look at her.

"Just shut up." She took in a deep breath. "You're acting like babies. Grow up and stop making a scene."

Derek and Mark both glanced around and seemed to realize that half the hospital had gathered to hear McDreamy and McSteamy fighting.

Then – "Addie," Mark said, a slight smirk forming on his lips, "Please tell your _husband_ to grow some balls and take a risk for once in his life."

Addison returned his grin with an uncertain look, as she glanced at Derek. "Shut up, Mark," she muttered, turning to stride away, high heels echoing on the tile.

Derek made a snort of disgust before stomping off in the other direction.

Mark raised an eyebrow at Meredith. "They love me."

"I can tell."

- - - - -

"This is a bad idea," she managed to get out between kisses when he dragged her into the supply closet. "Mark – seriously – " But he was already supporting her against the wall, tugging down her scrubs, and really, what could she do?

They'd just lost the patient, despite both Mark and Derek's best efforts. The tension in the room had been almost tangible, and she couldn't help wondering if the surgery would have been a success if the two men hadn't been so concerned with outdoing each other.

But that was stupid, she told herself. Obviously they both knew what they were doing. Obviously they wouldn't let their petty rivalry interfere with a case.

And besides, she had more to think about. Like the intense, harsh, biting kisses that were making her lips feel sore and used.

"You okay?" Mark pulled back to look at her face for a moment.

She saw the self-destruction in his eyes – the hurt, the loss – and knew that it was mirrored in her own.

She nodded and pulled him closer.


	6. lying

The funny thing was, she mused, that Derek still managed to give her those McDreamy looks, and Addison still managed to pretend she didn't notice. Mark had muttered something once about the two of them feeling like they had to keep up the charade of the perfect married couple.

Meredith felt like all four of them were just sinking deeper and deeper into denial.

Because none of them would see the truth. She and Mark were just holding their breath, waiting for their 'soul mates' to call it quits. She wished with every fiber of her being that she could just GET OVER IT already, but she also knew that was probably impossible.

She stepped onto the elevator a slow Tuesday morning and wasn't even surprised to see Derek standing in it, alone. Luck wasn't exactly her best friend.

"Hey," she said carelessly, stifling a yawn as she stood next to him.

"Hi." She felt him looking at her. "You okay, Mer?"

"Yeah, why?" she asked defensively.

He shrugged. "You seem a little… I don't know. Distant, lately. And I'm concerned. As a friend, not a non-friend," he added quickly.

"Well, as a friend, I can tell you that I'm fine. Just tired. Working a lot, that's all."

He nodded, looking unconvinced. "And are you… seeing someone?"

Her heart skipped a beat. He knew. He _knew_. Oh god. "Umm… kind of."

"Finn?" Derek asked, looking straight ahead and not at her.

She shook her head, brushing aside thoughts of caring, sweet Finn. Finn, whom she had pushed away because she knew she was too far beyond scary and damaged to be with such a good man. "No, just some guy. Friend of a friend." As soon as the last words were out of her mouth she realized how ironic they were.

"Oh," Derek said, and the slight hurt in his voice wasn't very Just Friends-like.

Which was ridiculous, she told herself. Because Derek was married. Derek had a _wife_. Derek went home every night and had sex with gorgeous Addison, so why shouldn't she have someone of her own? Why should he make her feel guilty?

She silently crossed her arms and neither of them talked until Derek stepped off at his floor and gave her a halfhearted wave goodbye.

She knew Derek still cared about her, somewhere secret. She also knew it would destroy him if he ever found out about her Very Bad Habit.

And so she was going to stop it. Soon. Very soon. Maybe tonight. Or… well… tomorrow would be better, probably. Or maybe after the weekend. Yeah.

- - - - -

Izzie plopped her lunch tray down next to Meredith's with a flourish. "So I just scrubbed in on McSteamy's facial reconstruction."

"Was it awesome? Did you rip the guy's skin off?" Cristina asked eagerly.

"Yeah. But Sloan was kind of… hitting on me."

"What?" Meredith immediately straightened.

Izzie shrugged as she bit into her sandwich. "At first I thought it was nothing, but then he kept making these little comments. And he kept touching my arm afterwards when we were talking in the hall. And then… wait till you hear this."

"What?" Cristina asked, leaning forward to hear.

"Dr. Shepherd – She-Shepherd, I mean – grabbed me and pulled me into a room, and she started going on and on about how I had to watch myself because McSteamy was apparently a big playboy back in New York. She said he was always screwing around with the nurses and interns, and she didn't want me to get involved with him."

"She's one to talk," Meredith muttered, feeling slightly sick at the thought of Mark flirting with Izzie.

_Not_ that she cared.

"Seriously, I know. And she said he can be very persuasive. Number one, who does she think she is to tell me that? And number two, I would never go out with him in a million years." She wrinkled her perfect nose. "He's just… "

"Scary and damaged?" Meredith supplied.

"No. I was going to say overly cocky." Izzie gave her a strange look.

"Maybe Sloan and Shepherd aren't so different after all," Cristina mused, raising an eyebrow at Meredith. "Screwing around with interns? Sound familiar?"

"Shut up." Meredith threw a wadded-up napkin at her friend.

- - - - -

She needed a drink after work, and she needed to be alone. She walked past Joe's and into a small bar further down the street where she figured she wouldn't run into anyone from the hospital.

She was wrong.

She slid onto a barstool and ordered a vodka and tonic.

A voice a little farther down the bar called, "And I'll take another scotch… Meredith?"

She whipped her head around to see McDreamy himself nursing a drink and staring at her incredulously.

"Hi."

"Hi."

She moved down a few seats so she was next to him. "What are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

"I just didn't feel like running into people," she said.

"Me neither. Joe's is… way too much of a gossip area. And I wasn't ready to go home."

"Is something wrong at home?" she asked carefully.

"Not really. I just… after spending a day with Mark, it's just hard to go home with Addison and not snap at her. She doesn't deserve that anymore. So I thought I would stop for a drink."

She nodded. "It really is hard for you to work with him, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah. It's just… so different. The last time we worked together he was my best friend. I would have trusted him with my life," he said bitterly. "And now it's hell."

"It will get better," Meredith said, hoping her words were true.

"It's always been a competition between us," Derek said, looking down into his drink. "Even though we were best friends. All through college, and then in med school, and then as interns. We were always fighting to one-up each other."

"Who usually won?" Meredith asked as she accepted her drink from the bartender.

"With girls, he did," Derek said with a small smile. "Until we met Addison in med school. She and I just… we just clicked, right away. He was so jealous in the beginning, when we both were fighting to get her and she chose me. I thought he got over it, but maybe I should have seen… even then…" he trailed off.

Meredith stayed silent, letting him talk. She couldn't remember the last time he had talked to her so seriously.

"I finished second in our medical class, you know," he said after a moment. "He was third."

"What, you didn't get first?" Meredith asked teasingly.

Derek ran a hand through his hair. "No. That would be Addison," he said wryly.

She nodded. She should have known.

"And with work, Mark and I were always trying to outdo each other," he said after a moment. "I saved lives but he saved faces. We both became the best in our specialties, but that wasn't even enough. We still managed to compete over everything. Who made the most money, who made the biggest difference… everything."

"Do you think that what happened with them – I mean, what they did… do you think it was because he just wanted to take something from you?"

Derek shrugged. "I really don't know. To be honest, I don't even want to know. If his loyalty – if our _friendship_ – meant so little that he would throw it away just to beat me at something, then I don't want to know." He sighed. "If that means that I actually hope he felt something for her, maybe it's twisted, but it's true. I just need some way to explain to myself how my best friend in the world could do something like that."

"It's always the people you love who have the power to hurt you the most," she said softly, and their eyes met for an understanding moment.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."


	7. crashing

7. crashing

"Dr. Grey, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Without waiting for an answer, Mark had grabbed her elbow and pulled her into the empty stairwell.

"What is it?" she asked stiffly.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been avoiding me."

"No I haven't," she lied, avoiding his eyes.

"I called you the past two nights."

"I've just been passing out after work. You know that I never get any sleep."

"Meredith," he said warningly.

"What?" she snapped.

"Did I do something? Did something happen?"

"Yes, something happened. _This_. _Us_. This is sick. This is wrong."

"What the hell are you talking about? Neither of us is _married_. I'm your boss, but that hasn't stopped anyone in this hospital before."

"You know what I mean," she said with a sigh, looking past him at the window.

"Actually, I don't."

She finally snapped. "You were flirting with _Izzie_," she hissed. "What, am I not enough for you? Are you screwing around with nurses too?"

His mouth opened slightly in disbelief. "_That's_ why you're mad at me?"

"I'm not mad," she mumbled.

"You're jealous," he said, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"I am not!"

"You are."

"Shut up."

"I didn't mean to flirt with her."

"Sure," she scoffed.

"Meredith," he said, his voice gentler. "I just… that's how I am. I've always been like that. It doesn't mean I'm going to have sex with her."

"Oh," she said, and wondered why she felt so relieved. "Good."

"I just can't believe you were jealous."

"I was not," she repeated stubbornly.

"Whatever you say."

His smile was infuriating her. "Why would I be jealous? It's not like we _are_ anything. It's not like you're my _boyfriend_ or something."

"No, of course not," he said quickly.

They regarded each other for a moment, and she felt a blush creeping up on her cheeks. "I have to go… check on a patient." Oh, the same old excuse.

"Okay," he said. "So… I'll call you tonight. And you'll make my day if you answer this time."

"Fine, fine." She rolled her eyes as she turned.

"I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Seriously," he called after her.

- - - - -

She wasn't stupid. She saw the way he looked at Addison sometimes – like she was his secret high school crush.

She didn't care, she told herself. Because she still had a stupid crush on Derek and his stupid dreamy looks.

But then she saw Mark talking to Olivia, and Olivia was laughing. And even though Meredith kind of liked Olivia, it didn't change the fact that Olivia was _kind of a slut_.

So was it really so surprising that she found herself glaring at them from across the room?

Mark caught her eye and the laughter died on his lips.

Twenty minutes later, when she was scrubbing in on his surgery, he said in a low voice, "You know, for someone who used to be a dirty mistress, you have a surprising amount of jealousy."

"You were way more of a dirty mistress than I was," she retorted.

"True."

"And I'm _not_ jealous."

"Right."

As he turned away from her, she hated herself for admiring how _hot_ the man was in his scrubs. Even when he was teasing her.

Stupid, stupid surgeons.

She knew that he was just using her to get over Addison.

Just like she was using him to get over Derek.

Right?

Right. Because they were both just scary and damaged and lonely.

She knew, deep down, that eventually everyone would find out.

She just wasn't prepared for the millions of little catastrophes that exploded when they did.


End file.
